


Mail Day

by sansybones, withtheworms



Series: Rehab Cabin DLC [7]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Memory Loss, rehab cabin DLC, sad skeletons living alone in the woods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-17 02:42:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11842281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansybones/pseuds/sansybones, https://archiveofourown.org/users/withtheworms/pseuds/withtheworms
Summary: A Rehab Cabin DLC fic by @withthewormsSet Post-Pacifist ending, with monsters now living with humans on the surface.  Sans’ inability to adjust to life without resets has meant that the Skeleton brothers have had to move out to a remote cabin in the hopes that a bit of isolation and time will help him get better.  Papyrus brings in the weekly mail, but Sans’ lack of memory makes things complicated, and then things get sad.





	Mail Day

**Author's Note:**

> Been awhile since we had a bit of Rehab Cabin DLC fic! I dunno, I missed it. Those sad skeleton brother boys.

“I’m home, Sans!”

Papyrus’ voice was loud and enthusiastic, ringing through the small cabin with the obvious intent of rousing any of the sleeping inhabitants within.

Something shifted and a thump (roughly equivalent to the sound of a small dog jumping off a sofa and landing on the floor) issued from the living room, followed immediately by the scrabble of paws on hardwood as the annoying dog rushed to greet Papyrus.  

The tall skeleton paused in the doorway, holding the screen door open with his elbow as he attempted to navigate around the excited yapping and enthusiastic jumps of the dog with his arms full of grocery bags and a high stack of post office packages.

“Sans?!” There was a shrill edge to his voice, the pile of mail in his arms nearly toppling as he attempted to step over the dog, and it drew Sans up into a sitting position on the couch, rubbing his eye sockets groggily as he smothered a yawn.

“Yeah bro?”

“Can I get a little help?!”

“Sure.”

Dragging himself to his feet, Sans paused for a moment to stretch his arms above his head, cracking his long line of vertebrae and languishing just long enough for the dog to sneak under one of Papyrus’ feet, tripping him and sending half the pile of mail he was juggling spilling onto the floor.

“Sanstopher The _Skeleton_!”

The brothers’ eyes met– Papyrus spectacularly flush-faced and frustrated– and they held each other’s gaze for a long moment, until Sans cracked and dissolved into laughter, knees buckling as he struggled to contain his mirth.

“Paps, oh my god…. _What_?”

“You heard me!” His frustration turning into something closer to embarrassment, Papyrus managed to navigate over the pile of dropped mail, crossing into the kitchen where he shouldered the bags of groceries he had looped over his arms onto the table.

Sans continued snickering, shuffling into the kitchen as Papyrus returned to the front door, closing the screen before kneeling to gather up the fallen packages.  Rifling through the groceries Sans pulled out a couple cans, studying their labels before he absently put them back into the bag.

“You could help unload them, not just make faces and put them back,” Papyrus muttered as he rejoined his brother in the kitchen.

“Oh.” It was as if the thought hadn’t occurred to him, and sheepishly Sans began pulling the cans out of the bag and setting them on the table.

Papyrus felt a comment bristle up into his throat, but he smoothed it back.  It had been an off-kilter week for Sans; unusually good mornings giving way to unusually _bad_ evenings, and the last few days it had been hard to keep him awake for more than a couple hours at a time.  The determined over-sleeping was a self-preservation tactic of Sans’ and Papyrus knew it, so the fact that he had risen at all and was at least pretending to engage in helping with chores was a good sign he was coming out of whatever fog he had drifted under.  

Papyrus just wished he knew what had taken to eating at Sans in such a way in the _first_ place.

“Lotta mail,” Sans remarked conversationally.

“A lot of mail for _you_ ,” Papyrus corrected.  

It was true– most of the mail was addressed to Sans, all of it bubble-mailers and puffy envelopes from clothing retailers overseas.  

“What have you been buying?”

The look on Sans’ face told Papyrus all he needed to know– that Sans had no idea– and he fought the instinct to roll his eyes as Sans sat down heavily in one of the kitchen chairs and started opening the first of many envelopes.

“Oh yeahhhhh.” Snickering, Sans held out a novelty shirt with a garish pattern of smiling junk food on it. “I guess I did some online shopping.”

“ _Sans_.” Papyrus hated being in this position: the no-fun nag who had to remind Sans that they had a budget, money didn’t just grow on trees, you don’t need _more_ ugly shirts….

“Look,” Sans countered, anticipating the lecture that was coming and pre-empting it by holding up the invoice that had been packaged in with the shirt. “It cost $5.”

“With $21 shipping,” Papyrus sighed, unpacking the last bag of provisions. “Sans I _know_ you know we’ve talked about this.”

“Heh, look this one’s got a cat with a lot of legs on it– A _cat_ erpillar.”

Papyrus grimaced at the pun, sighing partially for comedic effect but also from a real place of long-suffering.

“Please, no more late-night cheap-shirt purchases,” he said, forcing the words out as evenly as he could. “ _Please_.”

Sans kept his eyes on the envelope he was opening, and for a moment Papyrus felt that his request was going to be ignored completely, but then he nodded.

“Alright, Paps.” His eyes flicked up, momentarily meeting his brother’s. “I’m sorry.  I’ll write it down so I won’t–”

 _Forget_.

It didn’t need to be said, Papyrus felt the weight of it implied by the way Sans left it unspoken.    

The conversation petered out.  Papyrus continued putting their groceries away while Sans continued opening another envelope.  An awkward chuckle caught Papyrus’ attention, and he glanced over from the pantry as Sans pulled a second caterpillar shirt out of a mailer.

“Oops.  Must’ve mis-clicked on an order.”

Something nagging caught at Papyrus and he left the pantry, picking up the second invoice to compare the two. “You bought this one two days _later_ , Sans.” He set his jaw, staying silent as Sans opened a third mailer, then a fourth, of the identical shirt.

“Sans…” There was a sigh, something patient and pitying in Papyrus’ tone that snuck in unconsciously.

“Don’t.” Sans’ eye lights had fixed firmly on a space somewhere near his feet, his shoulders hunching as he balled the shirt he was holding up in his hands, twisting the material tight around his fingers.

“I’m not angry, Sans.” Papyrus’ voice had become gentle.  He felt a buzz in his pocket– a text notification from Mettaton– and fought the instinct to reach for it immediately. “It’s okay, maybe we can return them.”

“That’s not the point, though, is it?”

There was defeat in Sans’ voice, and Papyrus knew immediately what he was implying– his last liberty, his last outlet free from supervision.  Papyrus was going to have to look into parental controls like he was some sort of toddler, now.  A new addition to his constant regiment of checking for cigarettes and alcohol, and ohhhhh the fighting that would fall out from this the next time Sans tried to make a purchase and found his account locked…

Papyrus heard more than felt his phone buzz again and Sans smiled weakly, shrugging a shoulder as he hauled himself to his feet.

“Sounds like Mettsy has something important to say.  I’m gonna go check on the kids.”

The kids.  His garden.  Papyrus hesitated, a hand on his phone before he reached out, grabbing Sans’ shoulder in a tight hold, forcing him to a stop before he fled.

“Paps,” Sans’ voice was pulled tight. “Please.  Just give me five minutes to collect before we talk.”

“I’m not mad at you.” Papyrus tried to speak softly, struggling to convey the depth of his sympathy.

“That’s worse though, isn’t it?” There was something beneath the defeat and the sadness… such a deep well of self-loathing.  It hurt Papyrus to listen to it. “If you were mad it would _be_ something.  But it’s not.  It’s just another symptom, now.  Another tick on the list, something more to keep in mind, because I’m so fucking _broken_ I can’t even use a _computer_ -”

He should’ve let him go outside.  He should’ve given him the five minutes he’d asked for without needing to tack on words Sans didn’t need to hear right now.

 _Buzz buzz_.  Another text alert.

“Sans that’s-”

 _Buzz buzz._ He wished there was a non-disruptive way to tell Mettaton that now was just not the time.

“We’ll figure something out.”

_Buzz buzz._

“I’m not going to take your computer away from you.”

_Buzz buzz._

“Will you _please_ just take care of Metts?!” There was such a desperate edge in Sans’ voice that Papyrus unconsciously flinched back. “It’s clearly important, and you _know_ he’s gonna worry, just– Papyrus, please.”

He was smiling, and Papyrus hated it.  Hated how his love and support for the small points of normalcy in his younger brother’s life trumped his care about his own mental and emotional well-being.

“Look, just: I’m still going to be broken after I water the tomatoes.  We can talk about this then, okay? Tell Metts I say hi.”

And then he was gone.  The displacement of air and the bristle of excess energy along Papyrus’ bones pointed to teleportation magic, but he hadn’t left the property, and after taking a few deep breaths Papyrus looked out the kitchen window and could see him, sleeves rolled up as he pulled the garden hose towards his tomato bed.

Something in his chest hurt.  It was too tight.  He hated it.  He wanted to turn the radio on, and the TV as well, create a cacophony of conflicting noise and drown it all out.  Just shut up every single thought in his head.  Stop all of this.

Instead, he reached for his phone, unlocking it to check his message alerts before writing quickly.

 

> _Sorry! Sans was just helping me bring in groceries. Lentils were on sale!! <3 <3 <3 whats up??   
>  _


End file.
